


Père

by bennyboyTallmadge



Series: platonic!Washette [2]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, January 1778, Valley Forge, focus on paternal relationship, platonic!Washette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennyboyTallmadge/pseuds/bennyboyTallmadge
Summary: January 1778: Lafayette calls Washington "father" for the first time. Acidentally.





	1. Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's me again! Thanks to "gilbertwashington" on Tumblr for inspiring me to write this little story.  
> Please note that I intended to write the relationship of Washington and Lafayette as a platonic/paternal one (if you however want to read this imagining them in any other way, feel free to do so).
> 
> I've been thinking about turning the platonic!Washette-thing into a series of more of less connected short stories like this one and my latest one called "I will always return". I have a few plot ideas already, so if you guys would be interested in reading more stores of that kind or if you want me to write a specific scene, a headcanon or whatever, let me know!

**Part I**

 

The one thing Lafayette swore to himself upon his return to the headquarters was, that he was going to wear thicker gloves and an extra pair of stockings for the next troop inspections. He had just spent the whole afternoon on horseback, paying the men on the outer regions of camp a visit, trying to raise their spirits, help the best he could to ease their suffering. It had been General Washington's idea for all the men of higher rank, who had currently not been occupied with a vital task, to accompany him on a tour around camp. Lafayette knew that it was a desperate attempt to keep the numbers of deserters as low as it was still possible at this point. Never before in his life had he experienced a winter as hard and merciless as this one, which the continental army spent encamped at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania.

The men were suffering. There was no better word to describe their state. Lacking even the basic items like shoes and proper clothing, food and blankets, the conditions under which they had to endure were inhumane. They did not know whether they would see a piece of bread in the weak to come, if they still would have all of their toes and fingers when they woke up, or if their bunkmate would still be alive to see the next sunrise through the ice-crusted trees. A look at the latest troop count had proved to Lafayette that more men had died of the cold and starvation in this winterquarters than in all the battles of the last campaign combined.

Some of the men had been delighted to see Washington and his generals, pride glistening in their eyes when they were praised by the great commander-in-chief for their endurance and bravery. But the better part of them had just looked at them with empty eyes, their cheeks hollow from the weeks of living on nothing but water, barely able to hold themselves upright. Lafayette's heart had ached at their sight and he had silently cursed at whoever was responsible for the delay of the promised delivery of clothes and food for the men. He did not think that he would be able to eat anything later without feeling guilty - regardless of the fact that even the officer's rations had been shortened during the last few weeks. Still, he had to accept that there was nothing that could be done at the moment except for pleading for supplies at every chance given and using every opportunity to somehow raise the men's spirits. At least, some of them would go to bed later with the feeling that the officers in the headquarters had not completely forgotten about them.

The tour had proved way more fatiguing than Lafayette had expected it to be. He had not slept much the night prior due to some unfinished work that had demanded to be completed, and thus he had already been suppressing yawns when he had first mounted his horse. The frigid wind blowing through the valley had awakened him for some time, but then the cold had begun to even add onto his tiredness. The whole afternoon he had fought back, as he did not want to appear weak and frail in front of the generals, which partly were twice his age or even older – he needed to prove that he was worthy of his rank, of their trust. He had distracted himself with conversations with the men, observations like counting the firearms he was able to see on the tour and other occupations that grew more ridiculous with every hour. When Lafayette and the generals were approaching the headquarters, he would have been able to brief the others about the several stages of coldness he had experienced today. First, a peculiar, but not yet unpleasant tingle in the limbs. Then, a growing pain, a stinging in the hands and feet. The third stage was an increasing numbness in those parts, only interrupted by a sharp pain in case of dismounting one's horse. The forth one was the spreading loss of sensation, especially in the upper thighs which were least protected from the cold. In addition to that it grew to be nearly impossible to hold on to the reins. The fifth stage - which he unfortunately found himself to be in - was the inability to suppress the tremors that made his whole body shiver slightly and his teeth clatter.

Lafayette had noticed the worried looks that Washington had given him quite frequently during the last two hours. Several times the general had inquired as to his well-being, had even offered his young friend his cloak or advised him to head back to the warmth of the headquarters. Lafayette knew that he looked quite miserable; his skinny, lanky body trembling in his saddle, this cloak awkwardly draped over his thighs, his face half covered by a scarf in order hide the fact that his lips were turning blue, which Washington had pointed out in an attempt to convince him of aborting the tour. Nevertheless, he had declined the offer to let the other generals complete the inspections without him. He would not allow himself to give in, to appear weak in front of the senior officers and especially not in front of Washington. Even though he knew that the general would be the last person to judge him for giving in to his exhaustion, Lafayette felt the need to prove to him that he was as able as the others to endure the long hours in the cold. If the men had to endure their whole winter outside he would not shy away from spending half a day there.

Even though he did not admit it he was glad when they finally reached the headquarters. He looked forward to taking off his cloak that in the meantime was covered with a thin layer of snow and enjoying the warmth of the fireplace he was lucky enough to have in his room.

He dismounted his horse, hissing quietly when a sharp pain in his feet reminded him of the fact that his limbs were still existing and only momentarily numb. A servant took his horse's reins to take care of the animal and Lafayette quickly wrapped his cloak around his body, suppressing another yawn.

"Generals Sullivan and Greene, I require your presence at a brief council in a quarter of an hour", Washington announced as soon as he had dismounted as well. The two men nodded in acknowledgment whereas Lafayette just remained standing on the bottom of the stairs leading up to the entrance of the massive redbrick house, serving as living quarters and offices for the generals. Noticing the Marquis' questioning expression, Washington turned to him.

"Lafayette, you may retire to your quarters for the night", he said, after a quick glance at the Frenchman, who looked very much fatigued as well as very cold, brought back the worry to his face. Lafayette opened his mouth to protest, straightening up in an effort to prove that he was still able to attend and contribute to a council.

"That is an order, Marquis", Washington said, but his voice sounded too warm, too affectionate, to cause any intimidation.

"Yes, sir", Lafayette replied, giving in, too tired for further efforts of protesting.

"Good night, Marquis. _Bonne nuit_ , you say, is that right?", Washington said, smiling at him.

Lafayette reciprocated his smile, not having the heart to make Washington aware of his poor pronunciation. In fact he found it most endearing to hear the general’s efforts of using a few French phrases, although he had declared himself unable to learn a new language.

“ _Bonne nuit, père”,_ he said without thinking, noticing a moment too late what he had just called Washington. His cheeks started to burn, hot with embarrassment, despite of the icy wind even blowing close to the building.

“My apologies, sir, I – I did not intend to-”, he stammered, the proper English words having vanished from his mind. He saw Sullivan and Greene sharing a stealthy smile and his feeling of humiliation deepened further. Lafayette knew that even though the generals did not speak French, they had been perfectly able to detect the meaning of the term he had just addressed the commander-in-chief with. Washington, in the meantime, simply remained standing beside his horse, an unreadable expression on his face. It was hard to tell in the dim light, what his reaction to Lafayette’s mishap was. But even if it were bright daylight, Lafayette would have been too shaken to interpret the general’s mien. The only thing he was able to perceive was that Washington was staring, rather than looking at him, however without speaking a word. When the silence stretched out uncomfortably, the tension even increased by General Sullivan clearing his throat, Lafayette could not endure any longer.

“Good night, Your Excellency”, he corrected himself, already halfway up the stairs. Without taking another look to where Washington still stood as if frozen solid, he fled inside the building.

As soon as the door fell shut behind him, Lafayette felt the warmth creep back into his limbs again. With numb fingers he nestled at the clasp of his cloak, managing to open it after a short struggle. He took the damp fabric off his shoulders and proceeded to his quarters. Although he tried his best, he could not stop a few tears of shame burning in his eyes. He had spoken without thinking and owing to his fatigue he had now embarrassed himself in front of the generals. He had seen the grin passing between Sullivan and Greene and all of the sudden Lafayette was sure that their expression had been scornful even though he knew that the two of them were quite fond of him. And Washington – what if he was angry at him for calling him by that name in front of his men? The more emotional the men knew the commander-in-chief to be, the more vulnerable he would grow in their eyes. And what was a better prove of emotionality than to be called “father” by one of his subordinates? Lafayette did not even want to think how it had made himself look in front of Greene and Sullivan. With his twenty years he was regarded as a boy by many, and if he entertained a friendship of this nature with the general, they would surely think of him as immature and unable to assume command on his own.

In the meantime, he had reached his quarters and locked the wooden door behind him. A few minutes prior he had been so tired that he had felt like he could lay down fully clothed and fall asleep as soon as his head touched the mattress. But now with his mind troubled and his thoughts running wild, although he remained exhausted, sleeping seemed simply impossible. After taking off his coat, he added some pieces of wood to the flames already burning in his fireplace and seated himself onto the small sofa situated in front of the warm fire. Although the cold slowly started to fade, the embarrassment remained.

How could he meet Washington’s eyes the following day? In his his increasing state of anxiety he imagined different possible reactions the general might show; one would have appeared to him more ludicrous than the other if had thought about it with a clear mind. But in his distress he could picture Washington laughing about him, pitying him, or even wishing to terminate their friendship. In this moment he no longer the energetic, young major-general, bursting with self-confidence and zeal; he was the boy again he had been in France, lonely, unwanted, an outcast. He had lost count on how often he had been called worthless by his father-in-law, a spoiled child, someone who would never become someone of even minor importance. The person who had been supposed to be someone he could call _père_ for the first time in his life had turned out to be the one to hurt him the most of all.

Although he had not intended to call Washington by this name in that very moment, that did not change anything about the fact that it had come from the depth of his heart. Since the day he had first met the commander-in-chief, Lafayette had felt nothing but adoration and esteem for him. The way he stood out of everybody, the inexplicable aura of dignity and authority surrounding him, his calm and quiet voice, were just a few things that had caused Lafayette to be completely taken with him immediately. The tender friendship that had started to develop between them in first few days already, was more than Lafayette had ever dared hoping for. Washington had invited him to live with him in the headquarters, to be a part of his military family. But not only that - he had spent evening after evening with Lafayette, conversing about everything that came to their minds. That he had often lacked the English words for what he was trying to say and that his accent had still been so thick that sometimes Washington had had to ask him to repeat some sentences, had been no hindrance. In fact, Lafayette had had the impression that the general had found his effort at speaking English to be quite endearing.

For the first time in several years Lafayette had begun to acquire a sense of belonging, of feeling at home in midst of a raging war. The way Washington had looked at him, openly, honest, warmly and yes, affectionately, had made him feel accepted and important in a way nothing else ever had before. When his friend Hamilton had informed him of his observation that the commander-in-chief seemed attached to him in a way he had never been to anyone else in camp, Lafayette had believed his heart to burst with pride and happiness. Not only had he found someone whom he was able to admire and look up to, but his affections even appeared to be mutual. Soon, Lafayette had found himself to think of his emotions concerning Washington as filial devotion. He could not deny – and did not intend to either – that his mistake earlier had not lain in the term he used, but only in the circumstances in which they had slipped over his lips.

Although the warmth of the fire had by now successfully lulled his body into a stage of relaxation, his mind continued to race.

Had Washington not said, that he loved him as if he were his own son, after the battle of Brandywine Creek, when Lafayette had been injured by a British bullet? Could it be, that in fact there was no need for him to be ashamed of his mishap, that Washington just had not known how to react to his words in the presence of the other major-generals? Had he not, in this moment at Brandywine, already confessed that he did indeed entertain feelings of paternal nature toward the young Marquis?

Just now it appeared to Lafayette that what he believed Washington had said back then, probably had been mere wishful thinking, a fantasy, caused by fever and excruciating pain.

Sighing, he let his head sink back into the padding of the sofa. He already dreaded the next day – a council of war at ten in the morning, which meant that he would have to spent at least two hours with everyone who had been a witness of today’s happenings. The only thing he could hope for now was that there would be no mention of it at all and that Washington would still consider him worthy of his friendship.

Lost in thought, Lafayette did not hear the sound of someone knocking on his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You probably wouldn't think it, but Lafayette was in fact very self-concious throughout his teen-years and his first time in America. For his in-laws in France he was never good enough and especially his father in law did not like him at all, calling him worthless at every opportunity given. He, at least in the beginning of his time in the continental army, needed constant reassurance from whoever was ready to provide it and in most cases this person was - who would have thought - Washington. 
> 
> [the second part is in progress]


	2. Part II

**Part II**

 

Washington was still staring at the spot where Lafayette had been standing at the bottom of the stairs, when the headquarters’ heavy doors had already fallen shut behind the Marquis. Just now he realized that it would have been wiser to speak, instead of falling in a state of perplexity and muteness.

 _Père_. The word still echoed in his mind. Washington was not capable of understanding French in general, but the meaning of this term had not escaped him nevertheless. _Father_. Lafayette had called him _father_. No matter how rigid and stoic he might have seemed in that very moment, inside of him his heart sung with happiness. If the circumstances had been different, Washington would have embraced him and called him _son,_ to show that the young man’s affections were reciprocated. Just now, however, it had happened so unexpected, in front of the generals and obviously not intended by Lafayette, that Washington’s surprise had gotten the better of him.

“Are you quite alright, Your Excellency?”, Greene’s voice disrupted his thoughts. He realized that he must have been staring at the closed door for the better part of a minute, and quickly averted his gaze.

“Yes, thank you, general”, he said and noticed that Sullivan and Greene were watching him with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

“He seemed quite disconcerted, did he not?”, Sullivan said, trying to break the tense silence.

“You do know what he called you, sir?”, Greene asked and Washington nodded in reply.

“I do”, he said, not able to think of a lengthier response. Greene did not seem satisfied with it.

“Then I confess my inability to discern the problem, sir. Excuse my curiosity, but is that that not how he usually addresses you in private?”, he asked.

“He never did before.”, Washington said, wondering why he was even discussing his private issues with the two generals. Obviously they were assuming that Lafayette calling him _father_ was nothing new, which was in a way a heartwarming thought. Still, their assumption was wrong.

“He was tired and I am quite sure it was a mere accident”, Washington added.

“If that is what you suppose. But allow me to speak my mind, sir, I believe you are the closest he has to a father, and even if he did not mean to say it out loud, I doubt he did not mean it”, Greene said. Washington looked at him for several seconds, using his well-trained stoical expression to hide the fact that the general’s words stirred deep sentiments inside him. Deciding that enough of his personal matters had been explored, he just nodded and reminded the two generals of their conference in fifteen minutes. After all, their duties as the highest-ranked officers did not cease to exist because of this – incident.

Washington sent the servant away who was offering him to take care of his horse and lead the animal to the stables himself. He needed a moment of solitude in order to collect his thoughts before the council.

Rather he would have gone after Lafayette immediately, than to let his friend ponder over what he had said. Oh, how he wished, he had told the Marquis that there was no reason for him to worry about his words. Washington could only imagine how humiliation and worry would keep the young man awake now. Lafayette was one not to rest until an issue was settled, and thus he would probably stay up, despite his obvious exhaustion, to reflect on what had happened.

Washington unsaddled his horse and brushed it over with a bundle of straw, mechanically, lost in thought. If only he could tell Lafayette at once that he was by no means offended or repulsed, but that he, deep inside, felt as happy as seldom before. Now that he was alone, Washington could not stop the smile from creeping onto his face and a few tears from stinging in his eyes. How many years had he longed for someone calling him _father,_ for someone like Lafayette. And here, in midst of the war, where he had expected it the least, he had found him.

Lafayette, who looked at him with adoration and esteem, whom he could confide in unconditionally, who had proven his unwavering loyalty. When he had first seen the young Frenchman, tall and lanky, in his dashing uniform, with delicate features that made him look too innocent to picture him on a battlefield, he had not been sure whether he had been the right choice for a new major-general. Nevertheless it had taken him not even an hour to grow gradually more impressed with Lafayette. He had been eager to speak English and to convince the others present of his ardent devotion to the American cause. Even though it had been obvious how nervous he had been, it had made him appear even more endearing to the generals. Washington doubted that there had been one man in the room on this evening that had not taken an instant liking in the Marquis. When he had invited Lafayette to join him in the headquarters and told him to consider himself a part of his military family, he had seen the young man’s eyes lighten up with pride. Ever since that moment, he had not once doubted Lafayette’s place in the continental army. It had become a habit for Washington to spend the evenings with him whenever his duties allowed it, to eat together, and to share personal matters.

What would have felt odd doing with any other person in camp, simply felt natural with Lafayette. Never once had Washington feared that the Marquis would use his knowledge of the general’s weaknesses to his own advantage, laugh at him for an absurd thought, or turn on him. In return for his loyalty and admiration, Washington had always endeavored to provide Lafayette with reassurance and comfort when the young man´s confidence had wavered and the distance from his home country had made him feel lonely.

In less than half a year, Lafayette had grown to be his closest friend, his reliable confidant and his protege whom he cared deeply about. It was surely no exaggeration to say that Washington loved him – in a way in which only a father could love his dearest son.

Still, he had been hesitant about calling him by that name – _son_. Washington was not used to being in a relationship of such a close nature with anyone but his wife, and thus he had been unsure whether he would overstep a boundary if he addressed Lafayette in that way. Now, this caution had proved itself to be wrong. A part of him was filled with joy about Lafayette confirming their bond. After all, it was something, Washington had yearned for during the last months. But the other part knew, that his own inaction today had caused his friend a great amount of pain and who knew, how much damage had been caused by that.

The horse snorted in disapproval when Washington applied to much pressure to its neck. Just now he realized that he had been brushing the same spot for the past five minutes. Quickly he put down the straw and lead the horse into its stall. There was no other option than to seek conversation with Lafayette later, after the council. But for now, he had to focus on the latter. Washington took a lantern hanging on a hook on the barn-wall and made his way back to the headquarters. The cold wind hit him when he left the stable and he wrapped his cloak around him while he hurried towards the warmth of the building.

Upon his arrival at the conference room, Greene and Sullivan were already present. They were bent over a map at the head of the table and Sullivan was pointing at something while explaining what seemed to be a strategy to Greene. They both straightened up when Washington entered and greeted him with a quick nod, which he reciprocated.

“Generals, I know today’s inspections were fatiguing for you.”, he began, “Still, I feel that there is an immediate demand for some discourse. It is indispensable for the survival of this army that we begin to work on solutions for the lack of supplies. If we are not able to provide our men with the most simple items – food, shoes, blankets – we will not be able to call ourselves an army, come spring. Those who will not desert, will starve to death or become victims of the cold.”

His words did not contain any new information for Greene and Sullivan. They had seen the state the army was in with their own eyes, had witnessed how the men buried their friends in the snow because the ground was too hard to dig deeper than a few inches.

“There are several letters ready to be sent to Congress, sir.”, Sullivan said. “A major in my division urged his men to write one, if they were able to, and the rest of them signed a petition. It is not much, I suppose, but it gives them the feeling that they have the ability and the right to complain.”

“Every action taken is better than desertion”, Washington said and sat down at the head of the table. He knew that it would be impossible to find an ultimate solution tonight. Secretly he had to confess to himself that such councils were of greater use to the generals, who could create the impression for themselves, that they were attempting to help the troops, than to the men themselves, who remained untouched by the words spoken behind closed doors while they were freezing to death. Nevertheless, they discussed ways to ease the men’s suffering, possibilities to talk Congress into sending more supplies and to somehow keep the numbers of deserters as low as possible.

 

Washington had lost all track of time, when the discourse turned toward its end. In a way he had been glad about the distraction the conference had provided from the thoughts about Lafayette still troubling his mind.

“Thank you, gentlemen, for your attendance and your contributions to this council. Your efforts are greatly appreciated, especially at this time of the day. Or this time of the night, I shall say.”, he said, rising from his chair. Sullivan and Greene nodded in reply and wished Washington a good night before they proceeded to leave the room.

“And sir?” Greene had stopped and turned around on the doorstep.

“Yes, what is it, general?”, Washington asked.

“I think you should go to him. He appeared to be quite...distressed”, Greene said, a kind smile on his face.

“Yes, I shall look after him”, Washington said, instantly knowing whom the general was referring to.

“If he is still awake, that is”, he added, which made Greene chuckle.

“Good night, Your Excellency”, he said, still smiling when he left the room.

Washington contemplated whether or not to collect the maps splayed out on the table and eventually decided against it. He took his cloak from the armrest of his chair and blew out the candles which had nearly burned down completely during the course of the council. The hallway was nearly completely dark when he stepped outside the conference room. He had to be careful not to trip while ascending the stairs leading to the first floor, where Lafayette’s quarters were located. Washington hoped that he would find his friend to be still awake – it would be better to settle this matter before the unnecessary tension between them could increase further. Not many knew, but behind the facade of the energetic, zealous, young man, there was a boy in desperate need of reassurance and affection. After all, Lafayette was an orphan, disliked by his family in law and an outsider for the greater part of his young life. Washington’s heart ached at the thought of his dear friend being lonely, doubting himself.

Having reached the door of Lafayette’s room, he raised his hand and knocked twice. No response was to be heard, but Washington could see from the light falling through the doorslot that the Marquis probably was still awake. He had the habit of never letting his fire burn when he went to sleep ever since a captain in his division had somehow managed to burn down his barrack while being fast asleep. Washington knocked a second time. Still, he was not able to make out any reaction coming from inside the room. A sudden sensation of worry overcame him. What if Lafayette did not want to see him at all; if he thought his ´mistake´ to great to meet Washington’s eyes? He could under no circumstances let his friend think that way for the entire night.

“Lafayette, I will come in now”, he announced, giving him a chance to protest if he did not wish him to enter. When he still did not receive any response, Washington turned the doorknob and took a step inside.

He found Lafayette to be seated at the other end of the small room, in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames as if hypnotized. He did not seem to have noticed Washington at all. He had taken off his blue coat, which was drying on a chair close to the fireplace. Several strands had come loose from his braid and were falling into his face. The fire made his sandy hair appear in a burning red and cast dark shadows on his profile, unique and yet so familiar to Washington. If there had not been a pressing matter, Washington probably would not have disturbed his friend, as he seemed deeply lost in thought and the sight was a quite endearing one, as he had to confess. Now, however, the conversation he intended to have was the priority.

In an attempt to make the Marquis aware of his presence, Washington cleared his throat, making Lafayette jump and turn around. Quickly he rouse from the sofa, blushing and attempting to flatten the part of his uniform he was still wearing.

“Sir, I-”, he stammered, which definitively confirmed Washington’s assumption that Lafayette had in fact not noticed that he had knocked and entered. The boy seemed not sure of where to look, avoiding to meet the general’s eyes, and finally ending up staring at his boots. Washington’s heart ached at this sight and he reached out for his friend hesitantly with one hand.

“At ease, Lafayette. Since when do you react like a common solider upon my entrance, son?”, he said in a soft tone, adding the last word after a short break, somewhat hesitant. He noticed Lafayette’s head jerking up at the term, before he quickly averted his eyes again, brows furrowed.

“There is no need to mock me, sir”, he said in a much quieter voice than Washington was used to hearing from him.

“What?” His not very eloquent response was a result of not knowing whether he had understood Lafayette’s words correctly and, if he had, the pain his friend’s assumption caused him.

“You appear to be making fun of me for my...accident, sir. I do not consider this necessary.”, Lafayette clarified, and thus furthering Washington’s irritation.

“Lafayette, I – I did not – I would never-”, he began, lacking the right words to express that such a malicious act would never appear to him. He realized that they were both still standing, with Lafayette closely observing a cushion and with him attempting to get the young Frenchman to look him in the eye.

“Come on now, have a seat”, Washington said, gesturing toward the sofa on which Lafayette had been sitting previously. Hesitantly, the Frenchman accepted his offer and sat down again, close to the front edge of the padding. Washington joined him, his broad frame appearing massive on the rather small sofa. He watched Lafayette for a moment, who, in the meantime, had resumed focusing on the fire. Unconsciously, it seemed, he was chewing on his lower lip which made him appear even younger than he was anyway. Washington was reminded of how Lafayette had looked when they had spoken alone for the first time, back in August, which seemed like an eternity ago by now. He had been even tenser than he appeared to be now and Washington had been able to see how the boy’s legs were trembling with nervousness. Even though the latter was not the case now, he knew that his young friend was on edge.

“What you said earlier-”, Washington started, still searching for proper words.

“I did not mean to offend you, sir”, Lafayette interrupted him. Had Washington’s heart not already been aching it would have begun to do so now. Lafayette had not addressed him with _sir_ in private in over three months. In addition to that he still refused to look Washington in the eye.

“Will you look at me?”, the general asked, quietly, carefully. By the time Lafayette had finally turned his head toward him and raised his eyes from the ground, Washington had found a way to convey his sentiments. Moving a few inches closer, he rested a hand on Lafayette’s shoulder and slightly tilted his head, locking on to his gaze so his friend would not avert his eyes again.

“My dear boy”, he said, his voice moved with emotion, “In no way did you offend me. How could something I wished for so deeply ever insult me?”

He could recognize the exact moment when Lafayette understood what he meant to say. Washington smiled at his expression, mouth gaping open slightly and eyes glistening damply.

“For many years I imagined how it would feel to have a son of my own and I was convinced that this imagination would never become reality. But now, with you by my side, I believe I am the closest to it I will ever be. If what you said was heartfelt, and I do hope it was, be assured that I heard it with the greatest joy, for my affections for you are no less than those of a father for his most beloved son.”

It was relieving to finally express his sentiments, and although he had already assured Lafayette of his friendship numerous times in letters, it still seemed like a weight had fallen off his shoulders. From Lafayette’s reaction to his words, Washington could read that his friend felt the same way. The boy smiled despite the tears shining in his eyes and Washington was able to see his face light up in relief and joy.

“Come here”, Washington almost whispered, not entirely trusting his voice at the moment. It did not take Lafayette more than a few seconds to move closer and, with a shaky breath, rest his head on Washington’s shoulder. Although Washington did generally not care much about physical contact, he could not deny that it felt strangely comforting having his friend this close to him. Smiling fondly, he put an arm around the boy’s slight frame. It simply felt like the natural thing to do.

“Thank you”, he heard Lafayette mumble and he pulled him just a little bit closer. He knew that there were many words that could have passed between them, about the misunderstanding earlier, about their sentiments. In this moment, however, their both gestures were enough to tell them everything they needed to know. In this moment they were not the commander-in-chief of an army and an orphaned aristocrat; they were father and son, having found some sort of home and comfort in midst of the cold and a raging war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it got a bit cheesy at the end, but I just couldn't help it.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading, feedbak is always appreciated. :)  
> Have a nice weekend!


End file.
